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THE OYSTER-SHELL-PAVED road glared white in the midday sun. Mary-Alice flipped down the sun visor, which cut the glare a little. She realized she was going twenty miles an hour over the speed limit and reluctantly tapped the brake to slow down. She couldn’t wait to find out what was happening. All Gertie had texted was “get over here now carter already here.” Carter LeBlanc was one of Sinful’s two deputy sheriffs, so it was certain that something big was going on.
When she’d first moved to Sinful (population 253) Mary-Alice Arceneaux had feared her life would be uneventful. At least compared to Mudbug, which boasted a population of well over 500, and weekly drag races to boot. But Sinful had turned out to be more exciting than Mary-Alice could have imagined.
The minute Mary-Alice pulled her Oldsmobile up in front of the dark-blue Victorian, the front door flew open. On the porch stood a white-haired sprite surrounded in swirls of fluttering rainbow-colored chiffon. The apparition stared down at Mary-Alice, hands on hips, as her diaphanous costume billowed in the breeze.
Mary-Alice locked up and started up the wooden steps, wondering why Gertie was dressed like she was about to audition for Cirque du Soleil.
“Miss Gertie, I came over as soon as I got your message. Why, that’s quite an outfit you have on.”
“What?” Gertie looked down at her ensemble. “Oh. I was in the middle of aerials class when Fortune texted me. I came right over and didn’t stop to change.”
“Aerials class, of course.” Mary-Alice followed Gertie into the house. Its solid walls kept it a good ten degrees cooler than outside. “Miss Gertie, what is aerials class?”
“Oh, you hang from ropes and such and twirl around. It’s wonderful exercise. Kind of like pole-dancing, but more artistic. Ah, here we are.”
Although young Fortune was a newcomer to Sinful, and a Yankee to boot, she seemed well-matched with her late Aunt Marge’s house. Everything about it was no-frills. The furniture was plain and sturdy, the colors were muted, and everything from the chunky kitchen table to the squared-off furniture seemed to have been chosen for its utility rather than for its decorative appeal.
Fortune herself was seated on the solid couch living-room couch, her elbows on her knees. Happily, she was wearing jeans; it would have been courting disaster to sit that way in a dress. Mary-Alice was always amazed by how little of Fortune’s beauty-queen training had seemed to stick. One would think she had never been on the pageant circuit at all.
Deputy Sheriff Carter LeBlanc sat next to Fortune, an untouched glass of sweet tea in front of him on the coffee table. While Fortune’s expression was blank, Carter’s handsome face was unmistakably grim.
Gertie swept her rainbow scarves aside and plunked down in a chair, and Mary-Alice followed her lead.
“Okay,” Carter said, “if we can get started—”
He was cut short by pounding on the door. Gertie jumped up and returned with Ida Belle, president of the Sinful Ladies’ Society. Ida Belle went into the kitchen, ran the water, and came back out wiping her hands on a paper towel.
“This better be good,” Ida Belle plunked down on the couch next to Fortune. “I was in the middle of something important.”
Ida Belle’s white hair was wrapped in big rollers, and her overalls were stained with grease.
Carter let out an exasperated sigh.
“Miss Gertie, I’m trying to do an investigation here. Are you planning to invite all of Sinful?”
“I believe this is everyone,” Gertie replied. “Deputy, you have the floor.”
Carter looked at Fortune, then at the other three ladies.
“Okay, just to let you know, I’m only asking questions. I’m not accusing anyone of anything. I’m here for information.”
“We’d be grateful if you got to the point, Deputy,” Ida Belle remarked. “Some of us have carburetors that need to be reassembled while the light’s still good.”
“Fine. Celia Arceneaux has accused Fortune of kidnapping her, holding her prisoner, and beating her.”
Ida Belle snorted, and Gertie threw up her hands. Fortune crossed her arms and smirked.
“Oh dear,” Mary-Alice exclaimed. “That’s quite an accusation.”
“I always know this day would come, and it’s finally happened,” Gertie shook her head in mock pity. “Celia’s gone completely around the bend.”
“That woman’s had far too much time on her hands since she got kicked out of the mayor’s office.” Ida Belle stood up. “Naturally, Deputy, you will mete out the correct penalty for filing a false report. Well, that was fun.”
“Ida Belle, wait,” Fortune said. “Carter, how exactly was I supposed to have kidnapped her? What was my motive? How did she escape? And when did this all allegedly happen?”
Ida Belle sat back down.
“Yeah, I can spare a few minutes. Go ahead, Deputy, I could use a laugh.”
Carter did not appear to see any humor in the situation.
“She says the last thing she remembers was you inviting her in for a glass of tea, Fortune. Then you locked her in a closet and kept her there. And supposedly you also beat her. She’s a little unclear on the timeline but she claims she was in captivity...that’s her term...for most or all of the past weekend.”
“Well, it’s malicious harassment, pure and simple.” Ida Belle declared. “We got the mayoral recount done, Celia lost her seat, now she’s cooked up this story to get back at us.”
“Quite honestly, I’m a little disappointed in her,” Gertie added. “I’d give her a C-minus for effort. I mean, if I wanted to get revenge on someone, I wouldn’t go with a dumb and easily-disproven lie. If I had it in for someone, the first thing I’d do is go down to the hog farm and get a big ol’ bag of nice, stinky poop, and then I’d get a paper bag and I’d—”
Ida Belle cleared her throat and widened her eyes at Gertie. Gertie fell silent.
“Just to be clear,” Fortune said, “I didn’t kidnap Celia. I didn’t assault, provoke, harass, bully, vex, or even go near her. In fact, I didn’t see her at all last weekend.”
“You have everything you need now, Deputy?” Ida Belle stood up again.
“To arrest Celia for filing a false complaint?” Gertie added. “Not to mention interrupting my aerials class.”
“Here’s the problem,” Carter said to Ida Belle, who rolled her eyes and sat down again. “No one saw Celia this weekend. No one saw her at the General Store, no one saw her at the diner, no one saw her at Harriet’s Books—”
“Well that doesn’t surprise me,” Gertie interrupted. “The woman doesn’t read. Let me guess, no one saw her at the Library of Congress either.”
“So what?” Ida Belle said. “All she had to do was stay in her house.”
“It’s consistent with her story about having been held somewhere against her will,” Carter said patiently. “The fact that no one recalls seeing her.”
“Well isn’t that convenient,” Ida Belle said acidly.
“So she was staying with a friend, then,” Fortune suggested.
“Celia doesn’t have friends,” Gertie said. “She has enablers.”
“Henchwomen,” Ida Belle suggested.
“Minions,” Gertie riposted.
“Goons.”
“Flying monkeys!”
Carter cleared his throat.
“Even if you don’t want to take this seriously, the sheriff’s office does. We’ve already interviewed Celia’s known associates and they all deny being with her during that time. We have to follow this investigation where it leads.”
“So what you’re telling us, Deputy,” Gertie said, “is that you have to go by the book.”
“Exactly. I’m glad you underst—”
“And does this particular ‘book’ have anything to say about the investigating officer being romantically involved with the prime suspect?” Ida Belle folded her arms over her overall-clad chest and watched Carter’s momentary relief evaporate.
“That’s a good point, Ida Belle,” Fortune said. “I can’t imagine that Celia would approve of your leading this investigation. Carter, why are you the one investigating this?”
Carter sighed.
“Deputy Breaux’s off at a mandatory firearms safety class, and Sheriff Lee just plain doesn’t want to deal with her. So it’s me, or it’s no one. Anyway, Fortune, Celia was able to provide some description of the interior of your house. I just need to take a look in the closets—”
“For what?” Fortune protested. “What do you think you’re going to find? It’s not like you haven’t seen every room in this house already.”
Carter stood up.
“Fortune, I am sorry for the inconvenience, but what do you want me to do? You of all people should understand that I have a duty to...”
Carter cleared his throat and glanced guiltily at Mary-Alice, as if he’d let slip something he shouldn’t have. Mary-Alice gave him an innocent smile and wondered why Fortune, “of all people,” should have any special insight into the job of a law enforcement officer.
“This isn’t a good time,” Fortune said. “As you can see, I have company.”
“Fortune, the only reason you have company is because you invited them all here as soon as I told you what was going on. Look, I’ll just take a quick look around. It won’t take long.”
“No.”
“No?” Carter stared at Fortune in disbelief.
“Come back with a warrant.”
Fortune stood up, practically nose-to-nose with Carter. Fortune had to be nearly six feet tall in flats, one of many reasons Mary-Alice found her intimidating.
“Celia is doing this to harass me,” Fortune said.
“Fortune, work with me here. Celia’s in the hospital. I have to investigate this.”
“Celia’s in the hospital?” Mary-Alice exclaimed.
“She’s faking,” Ida Belle said.
“Totally,” Gertie added.
“And I’m not going to make it any easier for her,” Fortune declared.
“You’re sure not making things easier for me,” Carter muttered as Fortune walked him to the front door.